


Single Red Thread

by riverwrenwrites



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Klaus Behaviour, Canon-Typical Violence, Gay Love Can Pierce Through The Veil of Death, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mild Gore, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, blatant disregard for historical accuracy, it's a vampire/vampire hunter au with soulmate spice what more can I say, mystery... intrigue... gay romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverwrenwrites/pseuds/riverwrenwrites
Summary: In 1716, Klaus lost the love of his life in a horrible tragedy and found himself cursed with immortality.In 2019, Dave and his hunting partner Elliot are investigating a number of disappearances, and when they find themselves face to face with the vampire they think is behind it, Dave can't shake the feeling that he's met this man before...
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 74
Kudos: 122





	1. It bears repeating

**Author's Note:**

> I have no respect for history and no intention of making this fic even remotely historically accurate. If you were to submerge a history book in water for several hours, squash it into a soggy paper ball, step on it, and then scrape the resulting mess from the bottom of your shoe onto a nearby wall, the remaining legible words would still hold more historical accuracy than any part of this fic.

_Munich. September 30th, 1716._

It was exactly three years since Reginald Hargreeves had come into Klaus’ life. 

_Sir_ Reginald Hargreeves, an aloof billionaire from London, who showed up in the city one night and took a keen interest in his family. Or, more specifically in _him_. Several years ago, his father’s gambling troubles had come to the surface, and they’d lost the better half of their estate trying to pay off his numerous debts. But then Sir Reginald arrived. Bringing fancy wines and riches for his father, dresses and diamonds for his mother, and a whole myriad of pretty things for Klaus to wear or admire. Klaus didn’t care much for any of them, or for Sir Reginald, with his cold, black eyes, sinister smile, and icy touch that sent a chill through Klaus’s bones any time he tried to touch him. Still, he was prepared to grin and bear it all for the sake of his family’s reputation, and so every night, as soon as the sun had set, Sir Reginald would arrive at the house with more gifts. That was, until tonight. 

Tonight, the night before Klaus’ twenty-first birthday, Sir Reginald had arrived earlier than usual, empty-handed, wishing to have a “private talk” with his father. That was over an hour ago, and he and his mother were still sitting at the table, straining their ears to try and make out the hushed whispers coming from the next room. His mother had a sad look in her eyes, twisting the emerald ring on her finger restlessly as they waited, and unable to make eye contact with him for more than a few seconds. 

“Klaus!” His father’s voice boomed as he threw open the doors. “I have some good news for you.”

“That’s a first,” He mumbled.

“Don’t talk back to your father, dear,” His mother said in a hushed voice, resting her hand on his shoulder. 

“Klaus,” His father continued. “You’re going to be married.”

Next to his father, Sir Reginald was watching him, his gaze even more sinister than usual, with his hands resting on his silver-topped cane, and Klaus found himself shaking his head as the realisation dawned on him. 

“Everything’s been arranged. The ceremony will be held at Sir Reginald’s estate tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow!?” 

“It will be a _beautiful_ party, darling.” His mother squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. “And this marriage will mean an end to all our family’s problems.”

Deep down, Klaus had known this was coming from the moment Sir Reginald came into their lives, but that didn’t make it any less hard to stomach. Still, he knew he was powerless to overrule his father, so he took a deep breath, forced back the tears that threatened to spill out, and gave the best smile he could muster. 

“That _is_ wonderful news,” He agreed in the same false voice he’d learned from his mother years ago. “And a surprise. I think I’ll get some air before dinner, so I can take all this in.”

He waited for his father’s curt nod of approval before standing and walking slowly, elegantly out of the room. He kept the facade up until he was two doors down, before breaking into a run the rest of the way through the house, bursting through the doors and bolting towards the stable at the farthest end of the garden, towards the one good thing Sir Reginald had brought for him. 

The very first gift Sir Reginald had given him, on his eighteenth birthday, had been a horse. She was one of the most beautiful horses Klaus had ever seen, with silky hair and a jet black coat, and a small white diamond in the centre of her face. He’d named her Beatrice, but, in truth, it wasn’t really the horse that he was interested in.

He could hear the familiar whistling as he approached the stable, and a warm, fluttering feeling filled his chest. David was a year older than him and had arrived shortly after Beatrice, with a promise from Sir Reginald that he would take care of the horse, maintain the stable, and even teach Klaus to ride. Three years on, and he was still hopeless at riding, but then, he hadn’t exactly spent much time trying to learn. Klaus caught sight of him as he reached the open stable door, brushing out the tangles in Beatrice’s tail. The light of the setting sun filtered in through the cracks in the boards, giving a golden glow to his tanned skin and mousey curls. The shirt he was wearing had been unbuttoned halfway down and hung open as he worked, and Klaus found himself leaning against the door frame watching him until a chuff from Beatrice alerted David to his presence. 

He smiled wide when he saw him, tossing the brush aside and making his way over to him. 

“Enjoying the view?” He asked cockily, holding his hand out expectantly, as he did every time Klaus met him here.

Rolling his eyes, Klaus placed his own hand in David’s palm and watched in mild amusement as he leant down and placed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, a small tradition which began as a form of mockery, but had now become one of David’s many shows of affection. A few seconds passed, and David grinned up at him, tugging on his arm and pulling Klaus flush against his chest. His shirt was damp with sweat, and he smelled of straw and animal muck, something Klaus was still in the process of getting used to. 

“You stink.” He wrinkled his nose up, shoving lightly at his chest. 

“That’s the smell of a hard day’s work, darlin’,” David quipped, burying his nose in Klaus’ hair and taking a deep, dramatic inhale. “You smell of… snobbery… pompous aristocracy… and…” He moved down, pressing his nose into the crook of his neck while Klaus sniggered. “Oh, is that _lavender?_ ”

Lifting his head up, David dropped the pretence, blue eyes softening as he bumped their noses together and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” He said softly, kissing him again. “And I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. Did I ever tell you that?”

“This morning,” Klaus said with a smile, letting his eyes flutter shut while David’s breath ghosted against his lips. “And every other morning before that.” 

“Well, it bears repeating.”

There were a lot of people who had told Klaus they loved him, and twice as many who had called him beautiful, but none of them had ever meant it the way he did. They loved him the way someone would love an expensive jewel, a treasure to be owned and displayed. David loved him like a person. He talked with him rather than to him, and asked for his opinion on topics that, before meeting him, Klaus had never realised he even had an opinion about. He’d never felt more seen by anybody in his whole life, and it seemed a cruel irony that Sir Reginald had given him a glimpse of this happiness, only to steal it away from him completely. 

“I love you,” He told him, unable to mask the sadness in his voice as the reality of the situation he was trapped in started to sink in. “So much.”

He wound his arms tightly around David’s waist, pressing his face into his shoulder and clinging to him while David ran his fingers through his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “Hey.” He tilted Klaus’ chin up to look at him. “What happened?”

So Klaus told him, and the two of them held onto each other even tighter as they tried to come to terms with the fact that it could be the last time.

“Klaus,” David said after a few moments, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that had gathered under his eyes. “Klaus, listen to me. You don’t have to marry him.”

“Of course I do. What other choice do I have?”

“Well, uh… You could marry me.”

Klaus smiled and allowed himself just a moment to imagine that he could. To imagine that it could be that simple. 

“We can’t,” He said with a shake of his head, but David persisted.

“Sure we can! Look, here.” Letting go of Klaus, he scrambled across the stable for his jacket and dug around in one of the pockets. “This was my mother’s,” He said as he took his hand, slotting a plain, gold band onto his finger. “Listen, Hargreeves doesn’t pay me much for this job, but for the last three years I’ve been saving every penny I can. It’s not a lot but it’s enough for us to get away. We can jump on a train and figure things out as we go. It won’t be anything like the life you’re used to but… It’s gotta be better than being trapped here, right? We… We could sell the ring too for some extra money and-”

“David,” Klaus interrupted, holding his finger up to his lips to silence him. “I won’t _ever_ sell this ring. Not ever.”

David’s eyes lit up, and a grin spread across his face. “So you’ll come with me?”

“Of course I’ll come- hey!”

Before he could finish his sentence, David scooped him up in his arms and spun him around the barn, kissing every part of his face he could find while Klaus clung to him and laughed uncontrollably. 

David wanted to leave right there and then, but Klaus insisted on collecting a few belongings first, so they made a plan. Klaus returned home, smiled and made small talk about wedding arrangements with his mother all through dinner, then, at midnight, once everyone was asleep, he packed a small case, and crept back out to the stable where Dave would be waiting for him. 

Only, as he drew closer to the stable doors, he couldn’t help but sense that something was wrong. It was silent. In all the time he’d kept Beatrice, he’d never known her to be silent. Cautiously, he pushed the door open and found himself standing in the middle of a waking nightmare. 

Beatrice was dead on the floor in a pool of blood, and the moment he set foot inside, he heard David’s voice screaming at him. 

“Klaus, get out! Get out!”

Before Klaus could react, he felt an icy hand over his mouth and a searing pain in his throat. The pain shot through him, setting each of his nerves on fire and overwhelming his senses. It was a ringing in his ears and acid on his tongue and fire in his lungs. A face appeared in front of him, and through his blurred vision he could make out Sir Reginald’s pale, angular features. His black eyes glowed red in the dark, and blood stained his lips. 

“Say goodbye to the land of the living,” He said, his mouth twisting into a sinister smile as he licked Klaus’ blood from his pointed fangs. 

Klaus’ legs buckled underneath him and he collapsed to the ground, the pain swelling up in his lungs and choking the life out of him. Over the deafening sound of his blood rushing in his ears he could hear David’s voice crying out for him, and he desperately tried to crawl across the floor towards him. Fumbling in the dark, the pain completely clouding his vision, he felt a warm and familiar hand grabbing his, but before his eyes could focus he heard the sickening sound of flesh ripping, and the smell of blood overwhelmed all his senses. Then there was silence. Silence and darkness. 

✢✢✢

_Vegas. January 13th, 2019._

Dave woke with a start, clammy, and with a dull ache in his neck. He’d been having the nightmares for seven years now, ever since he turned twenty-one. Never the same place, or at the same time, but always the same man. A man that, as far as he could remember, he’d never once met while he was awake, but had dreamt about so many times that he could picture him as clear as any other person he knew. Dark curls, sometimes cascading down to his shoulders, other times cropped short, sharp cheekbones and a crooked smile, and the deepest green eyes he’d ever known. 

Usually, the dreams were few and far between. Once a month at most. But in the last few weeks they’d grown more and more frequent, and now they seemed to be a nightly occurrence. At least, they had been since he’d arrived in this city. This was the third night in a row he’d found himself staring up at the mottled beige ceiling of their motel room, trying to shake the visions of green eyes, blood, and screams from his head. 

“Still having those nightmares?”

Turning his head, Dave saw Elliot sitting on the edge of his own bed, already fully dressed and with a thick, weathered book resting open on his lap. 

“You should really see someone,” He continued when Dave didn’t respond. “I met this guy once who told me that recurring dreams are a sign that otherworldly beings are trying to communicate with you. Might be that you’re being called to some higher purpose.”

Elliot had always been a few ants short of a picnic, but Dave liked that about him. Varied conversation was often hard to come by where hunters were concerned. In fact, conversation in general was hard to come by. And it was nice having someone around who was always ready to talk his ear off, even if it was usually about whatever conspiracy theory he’d been reading up on lately. 

“Right now the only thing _calling_ me is that waffle house we passed last night,” Dave grumbled as he sat upright, stretching his arms above his head and popping several joints in the process. “We can check the papers for any new missing persons while we’re there.”

In the last three weeks there had been eleven reported murders in or around the city, and, at his last count, over thirty disappearances. Some reported, others he and Elliot had managed to learn about through hushed whispers in bars and clubs in the two days since they’d arrived in town. It was easily the biggest, and the messiest case Dave had ever come across. Whoever was behind it clearly didn’t care about covering their tracks, which was unusual. This had to be the most callous, and the most _reckless_ vampire he’d ever hunted. And Dave had hunted a _lot_ of vampires. 

He’d started young. Younger than most, according to other hunters he’d met. When he was eleven and crept downstairs in the middle of the night to find his parents’ lifeless bodies on the floor, being drained of blood by two hunched, shadowy figures. He would have been dead too, but just as one of the figures was about to descend on him, a sharpened wooden stake pierced right through its chest, and a tall, blonde woman screamed at him to get out. Before he even had a chance to move, the second figure pounced on the woman, and in a rush of pure instinct and adrenaline, Dave grabbed the stake from the dead vampire’s body and stabbed it as hard as he could through the other’s heart. 

The woman, Sissy, took him in after that. She and her wife Vanya taught him how to recognise vampires, how to track them, and how to kill them. He was a natural, apparently, and it became the focus of his whole life. A few years ago he met Elliot while the two of them were hunting the same vamp, and they’d been working cases together ever since. 

“Another one missing.” Elliot dropped the paper onto the table while Dave shovelled pancakes into his mouth. “Thirteen years old.”

“ _Thirteen?_ Shit. What’s his name?”

“Apparently it hasn’t been released for ‘legal reasons’,” He said, making sarcastic air quotations with his fingers. “Amazing how the law manages to keep that stick up their ass, even with an undead serial killer on the loose.”

Chuckling, Dave looked down at the paper, scanning the article for anything that might be of use. There was only one photo of the kid. A cropped version of a school photo taken in the fall, with the other visible classmates’ faces blurred out. He was an orphan, living at a boarding school and, according to the statement from the principal, had a habit of sneaking out. It could be nothing, but with the number of other disappearances, it was still worth looking into. 

“The school’s only a block away from where the last girl went missing,” He observed when he saw the address. “We should check it out.”

“Boarding schools give me the creeps,” Elliot mumbled and Dave cocked his eyebrow at him. 

“How about a potentially vampire-infested boarding school?”

“That actually creeps me out _less_. Let’s go.” 

The school was made up of several angular, sandy coloured buildings, with square windows and flat, brick red roofs. It didn’t strike Dave as a particularly homely place, but then, that was true of most places that vampires visited. Elliot, through means that Dave didn’t care to question, had managed to score them each an authentic-looking LVMPD badge, and they were ushered into the building with very few questions asked. The principal was a tall woman, with dark hair streaked with grey that fell almost to her waist. She wore a mustard blouse with a black pencil skirt and heels that clicked purposefully against the tiles as she walked, and an expression of perpetual disappointment that bore right into Dave’s soul when she looked at him. 

“The boy’s room is this way,” She said with a sigh, sounding bored with the interaction already, and leading them up a flight of stairs and along a winding corridor. 

“So, uh… This kid gets out a lot?” Dave asked as the principal stopped outside one of the dorms, not even needing to check the number before taking out a key and opening the door. 

“This is the third time this academic year.” She nodded and perched herself on the edge of the small desk that had been pushed up against the wall. “The caretaker suggested putting bars on his window, but I don’t think that would do anything to stop him. I swear it’s like the boy can walk through walls or something.”

Exchanging a glance, Dave and Elliot set to work inspecting the room. There was a minimal amount of furniture inside. A bed with plain blue bed sheets and a small table laden with books pushed up beside it, a wooden closet, and the desk. A collection of sci-fi posters and torn out comic book pages were stuck haphazardly to the walls, but aside from that, the room was immaculate. The bed was made, with pyjamas neatly folded on top of the pillow, books carefully tucked away, not the scene one would expect if the kid had been snatched unwillingly from his room. 

“Did he take anything with him?” Elliot asked while Dave inspected the window. 

“His uniform and coat,” She said, recounting everything as though she had been over it a hundred times. “A satchel with his school books, and Mr Pennycrumb.”

“Mr Pennycrumb?”

“His toy dog. He takes it everywhere.”

Vampires weren’t known for their sentimentality, and it was starting to look like this could just be a simple case of a rebellious school kid making a break for it. Still, they checked for the usual signs. No visible claw marks on any of the walls or the furniture, no traces of blood, no ashes on the floor. It was difficult to conduct a thorough inspection for traces of the undead with a school principal watching over their shoulders, and Dave had a feeling she might be starting to cotton on to the fact that they weren’t genuine detectives when he started sniffing along the window ledge for that lingering smell of death vampires sometimes left behind. Still, if she suspected anything, she never said, and she still thanked them politely for their time as she showed them back down to the main doors. 

“Well, that was a colossal waste of time,” Dave muttered as they made their way back up the road to his car. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, Elliot pulled out a comic book and waved it at him. “Do you have any idea how rare this edition is?” 

“You stole a thirteen-year-old’s comic?” 

“Not like he needs it now.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“I had a troubled childhood.” Elliot shrugged. “And a troubled adulthood.” 

“Yeah, didn’t we all?”

They decided to get back to gathering information on the last official missing person, a woman named Lila Pitts, who was last seen just over a week ago. They’d managed to piece together a fair amount yesterday. She was twenty-five, originally from England, adopted by a wealthy Countess but left home six months ago to try and make a life for herself. She’d been sleeping on a friend’s couch and working in a local dive bar until eight days ago, when she finished up a shift and was never seen again. 

It was definitely a vampire. _That_ , at least, they knew for certain. There was an alley close to the bar that her friend said she would use as a shortcut, and when he and Elliot checked they found blood, claw marks in the pavement, and a bracelet that her friend confirmed belonged to her. What they _couldn’t_ work out was what the hell happened to her body. Or any of the other bodies for that matter. He’d never encountered a vampire before that showed any kind of interest in disposing of their victims once they were finished with them, but here they seemed to be vanishing into thin air. A few times now Dave had found himself toying with the idea that maybe this particular vampire was _eating_ its victims, not just draining them, but Elliot was insistent that any kind of solid food would make them sick. He didn’t have any evidence for this beyond a reference to a movie he’d seen, but he argued so convincingly that Dave had felt compelled to believe him. 

They returned back to the alley, as if, for some reason, Lila’s body might suddenly have materialised. Shockingly, they found it just as empty as before, with the addition of a ginger alley cat that hissed any time they impeded on his personal space, but in the light of day they could see smaller details that they missed the night before. A scrap of fabric that matched the scarf Lila had been described wearing, an acrylic nail with blood and skin underneath it. Dave lost a coin toss and wound up digging through the dumpster while Elliot attempted to follow the trail of scratches and claw marks across the ground. 

As he was tossing one of the garbage bags over his shoulder, a mark on the wall behind the dumpster caught his eye and he stopped to investigate it. It was another scratch, not as deep as the ones Elliot was following, but still as clearly defined as any other mark he’d found in his years of hunting. The more he looked, the more scratches he began to notice, scaling all the way up and over the top of the building, in the opposite direction of the first trail they’d spotted. 

“There’s more than one,” He said under his breath when the realisation dawned on him, before turning and calling over to Elliot. “Hey! There’s more than one!” 

“What are you talking about?” Elliot asked as he walked over. 

Dave pointed up to the wall. “Two sets of tracks. There were two vampires here.”

“Ooh,” Elliot mused, his eyes lighting up excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to find an _actual_ coven!”

The way Elliot responded to these things, as if he was trying to tick items off some kind of supernatural bucket list, could either entertain or irritate Dave depending on what mood he was in. That had always kind of been Elliot’s thing, though. He got into hunting through sheer willpower, dedicating his life to trying to prove the existence of various supernatural creatures until one day, in a moment of dumb luck, he found himself tangled up in the middle of a hunt. By that point his wife had already up and left, but hey, he seemed to be pretty happy with his current situation. 

“Covens aren’t a thing, Elliot,” Dave told him. “You watch too many movies.”

“Just because you’ve never seen one, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” Elliot folded his arms stubbornly. “And how else do you explain two vampires hunting together?”

“They _weren’t_ hunting together. The tracks are going in opposite directions. More than likely they were fighting over a kill, and the winner left with the body.” He paused, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. “Never known them to hunt in such close proximity to each other though.” 

He could see in Elliot’s eyes that he wasn’t finished with the coven argument, but he conceded for now, shrugging and nodding across the street. 

“We should go back to that bar, see if anyone saw any fights that night.” 

Dave nodded in agreement, and the two of them headed down the street, to the bar Lila had been working at before she disappeared. 

There were only one or two people inside the bar, the late-night crowds having not yet arrived, and that suited Dave just fine. It was dark inside, with dark wooden bar tops and polished floors that reflected the purple and green ceiling lights. A young girl in a shirt brandishing the bar’s logo was weaving a mop in between the circular tables dotted around the room, while a man in a matching shirt cleaned glasses behind the bar. 

“You’re a little early for Happy Hour, fellas,” The man said, not looking up as the two of them seated themselves at the bar. 

“We’re not here to drink,” Dave said flatly as he dug his fake badge out of his pocket, “We just have a few questions about a fight that may have taken place nearby.”

“Fights take place nearby almost every night.” He glanced up, cocking his eyebrow at him. “So you’re gonna need to be _real_ specific.” 

“Alright. The night Lila Pitts went missing-”

“You’re wasting your time.” The girl with the mop cut him off, leaning against the bar and loudly chewing gum as she spoke. “Lila’s fine, the little stop out.” 

“How do you know?” Elliot asked and she shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I saw her,” She told them. “This morning, on my way to work. There’s this big house I always walk past. Always thought it was empty, I’ve never seen anyone going in or out before, but this morning I saw her walking past the window.”

“Nicki, that could have been anyone,” The barman said but she shook her head. 

“It was her! She was wearing the jacket I leant her to walk home in!” 

Dave and Elliot exchanged a glance, and Dave cleared his throat. 

“Do you have the address?”

“Sure, but I don’t know what you’re expecting to find,” Nicki said as she pulled a notepad out of her back pocket and started scribbling. “I knocked on the door when I saw her and didn’t get any answer.”

Taking the address, the two of them left and returned to the car.

“Okay, what’s our plan?” Elliot asked as he buckled his seatbelt. 

“First, we get sandwiches.” Dave’s stomach growled as if to emphasise his point. “Then, we stake out this house.”

“Heh,” Elliot chuckled. “ _Stakeout_. ‘Cause vampires.” 

“‘Cause vampires,” Dave agreed. 

They found the house easily enough. It was modestly sized, with golden yellow walls and an exposed brick extension. The windows were arched, with curtains obscuring any view inside, and the front door was tucked away beneath a roof canopy, held up by two stone pillars. Ivy and climbing roses scaled the walls, and there were beds of lavender and honeysuckle planted beneath the front windows. There was some evidence of personal touches outside. A bronze birdbath tucked among some bushes, large, brightly coloured pots clustered together on the porch, and a moon, forged from some kind of metal, fixed to the wall at the front of the house. Dave would never have picked it for a vampire hideout, but it was the best lead they had, so they sat outside and waited... and waited… and _waited._

Just as Nicki had said, there was no sign of anybody coming or going from the house, and the curtains remained closed. As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, there was still no activity until, almost nine hours into their watch, a light flicked on in one of the rooms, and a silhouette appeared behind the curtains. The curtain twitched, and for the briefest moment, a face appeared, glancing up at the sky, judging the light level. It wasn’t Lila. Dave could just about make out a glimpse of facial hair and a flash of blood-red eyes before the curtains snapped shut again. 

“Well,” Dave said, slumping back in his seat. “I’ll say one thing for this vamp. He has a _great_ eye for landscaping.”

Elliot hummed in agreement and took a loud slurp from his drink before responding. 

“So what’s the plan? Wait for sunrise and shank his ass?”

“Yeah, the usual.”

“Neat.” Elliot kicked his feet up onto the dash and settled back against the headrest. “You can take the first watch.”

Dave didn’t bother to argue, resting his head against the window and letting his mind wander as the sound of Elliot’s snoring began to fill the small space they were confined to. He envied Elliot’s ability to sleep in just about any environment, regardless of the noise and light levels. But then, with the number of nightmares he’d been having lately, he was glad to be able to put off sleeping for a little longer. 

The deep indigo sky, tinted with the orange haze of the city lights, was a lot different to the skies he was used to. Growing up on Sissy’s farm, the skies were clear, with fluffy white clouds in the daytime and more stars than Dave had ever seen in his life at night. He’d always thought her farm seemed more like something from a movie, or a children’s cartoon, too perfect to really exist in real life, a jarring contrast to the array of weapons and vampire traps set up inside the barn. Before that, at his real home, the skies were generally grey through the day and seemed to be showering them with rain more often than not. Or maybe those were just the days he remembered. These days he found it was getting harder to recall solid memories of his life before hunting took over. He remembered small things. His mother’s smile and blue eyes that matched his own, the fishing boat with peeling paint his father used to take him out on, and Scout the cocker spaniel, who was hit by a car when he was nine. The rest was foggy, like an out of focus photograph, and the only _physical_ reminder he had left was his mother’s wedding ring, which came off as he was clinging to her hand, while Sissy tried to pull him away and get them to safety. Now it stayed around his neck, secured by a fraying piece of string, serving as evidence to prove that part of his life had been real. 

Time passed quickly, and soon it was Elliot’s turn to take over watching the house. Dave found himself dreaming about the green-eyed man again, this time more vividly than ever. He could feel the rain soaking through his clothes and chilling him to the bone, the squelching of the mud beneath his feet, and the blood on his face as a bullet passed right through the other man’s throat. 

Jolting awake, with the sound of screaming still ringing in his ears, Dave blinked into the sunlight and realised it was morning. 

“Have you tried sleeping with an amethyst under your pillow?” Elliot asked nonchalantly, nibbling on a stale cracker he’d fished out of Dave’s glovebox. “They’re supposed to be good for sleep.” 

“I’m not desperate enough to try one of your crack theories yet,” Dave grumbled and Elliot laughed. 

“Oh, so keeping a bunch of wooden stakes and silver knives in your trunk to ward off vampires is fine, but you’re drawing the line at natural healing remedies?”

“I’ve _seen_ vampires,” He said as he pulled his jacket back on. “Half the shit you suggest is straight out of a pyramid scheme pitch.” 

“I just think you could benefit from being a little more open-minded.”

“Are we breaking into this house or what?” 

Muttering something under his breath, Elliot opened the door and got out, and Dave followed him around the car to the trunk. Dave had tried out plenty of weapons in his time, but eventually decided to settle on the basics. Stakes, knives, and flasks of holy water. They each strapped on holsters and loaded themselves up with as much gear as they could before making their way over to the house. 

The window of the front door was stained glass, with intricately cut blue and gold dragonflies, and a brown mat with “all are welcome” printed in black letters was laid across the floor. While Elliot got to work picking the lock, Dave inspected the lantern fixed to the wall, which was still lit, projecting multicoloured shapes onto the surrounding brickwork. 

“Got it,” Elliot whispered as the lock clicked and the door swung open with an agonising creak. 

Rather than the gloomy interior Dave had expected, the hallway was lit with strings of lights in a variety of colours and shapes. Some were draped from the ceiling, others along the walls, while some had been balled up and used to illuminate coloured glass jars and vases. There were two rugs spread across the floor in front of the door in clashing pink and red colours and a cluster of plants in intricately painted terracotta pots grouped together in the corner. A tapestry of bright blue, purple, and orange patterns was hung across one wall, and against the opposite wall, a wooden table painted with flowers and covered with a collection of candles, vases, and sculptures. Further along, a set of windows were shrouded by deep turquoise and gold curtains, and an ornate mirror hung on the far wall, framed by another matching set. 

It was silent as the two of them crept across the stone floor, but Dave couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The flickering lights cast shadows that seemed to dance across the walls as they walked, taunting them, and one string of deep red bulbs seemed to resemble glowing eyes whenever Dave caught a glimpse of them. They reached a large, stone archway with gold, beaded curtains hanging on either side, and Dave gripped the handle of the knife he was clutching a little tighter as they headed through into what appeared to be a sitting room. 

This room was less brightly lit, with just two small lamps on the coffee table, and another string of lights on the far wall, illuminating a collection of South Asian art. They had to take care as they explored the room, weaving their way around tables and pieces of furniture. In the dim light he could make out a set of plush turquoise couches, covered in orange and yellow cushions, and a square wooden coffee table adorned with plants, books, and unlit candles. There were bookcases against one wall, and on the other, a fireplace with even more candles and vases set along the mantlepiece. Beautiful wasn’t a word Dave usually associated with vampire homes, but this house was easily one of the most beautiful places he’d seen. 

A floorboard creaked overhead, and all thoughts of interior decoration quickly disappeared from his mind. The two of them froze, holding their breath as they tried to listen for any more signs of movement. It seemed as though the whole house was moving, with faint creaks and cracking noises coming from all directions. 

After a few agonising seconds, Dave allowed himself to breathe again, his heart drumming loudly in his ears as he glanced over at Elliot. Slowly, cautiously, he took another step across the room, careful to avoid a box of trinkets left on the floor. He watched as Elliot attempted to do the same, lifting his foot to take a step. As he did, another loud creak from down hall caught them both off guard and Elliot stumbled backwards, throwing his arm out to steady himself and knocking a large, decorated vase to the floor. Time seemed to slow down as the vase hit the floor, shattering with a loud crash.

Dave immediately prepared himself for the inevitable fight, pulling another knife out from a holster on his thigh and planting his feet firmly on the ground ready to defend himself. Seconds passed but no fight came, and the two of them exchanged confused glances. 

“Must be a _real_ heavy sleeper,” Elliot whispered. 

Dave was about to reply when he heard the sound of a door being flung open, and footsteps padding purposefully down the hall towards them. 

“If that was my Ming vase,” An oddly familiar voice snapped as the ceiling light flicked on overhead. “I swear to _god_ I’ll put the both of you up in a motel until you’ve learned to control your- oh… hello.” 

A man stood in the archway, dressed in a deep purple, silk bathrobe and black slippers, his damp hair wrapped up in a towel with a few dark curls escaping. Both his hands were decorated with colourful rings, one holding a cigarette, and the other clutching a crystal glass filled with what, to the unassuming eye, could be mistaken for red wine. But Dave wasn’t interested in any of that, because he couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s face. 

It was a face he’d seen a thousand times before, so familiar he could draw it blindly. It was the face that had been haunting his dreams for the last seven years. The same pronounced cheekbones, though his skin was a little paler. The same defined lips, twisting into the same crooked smile as he cocked his head curiously at Elliot. And the same long dark lashes, batting flirtatiously, accentuated by dark makeup smudged around his eyes. But his _eyes…_ His eyes weren’t the vivid, earthy green he remembered. Now they burned a deep, blood red, with a faint, otherworldly glow to them. 

The floorboard creaked beneath Dave’s feet, and the man’s head whipped around to look at him. His eyes widened, his lips parting in a look of shock and recognition that seemed to match his own. The glass slipped from his frozen hand and shattered on the floor, but neither of them so much as flinched at the sound, as the man slowly tried to regain his speaking voice, finally managing to choke out a single word. 

“ _David._ ”


	2. The little ones

_ Munich. October 3rd, 1713. _

Klaus had never really considered the idea of owning a horse before. He didn’t dislike them, and he enjoyed the shows his father took him to sometimes, but he’d never had much of a desire for one of his own. The closest he’d ever been to one had been from the back of a carriage, and now here he was, face to face with a horse.  _ His  _ horse. A bizarrely generous birthday gift from someone he’d only met a day prior. 

“Hello,” He said, taking a cautious step closer to the stable window where the horse was standing, watching him with dark eyes. 

So far he had yet to think of a name for her. There were several ideas he’d considered over the last two days, but so far nothing had stuck. For now, she was just “the horse”. He took another step towards her, now less than a foot away from her face, trying to gauge some kind of emotion from her blank expression. 

“You’re very pretty,” He told her, as though flattery might get him somewhere, tentatively reaching a hand out to touch her nose. 

The horse made a chuffing noise and he snatched his hand back. Taking a hasty step back, his heel caught a small rock jutting out of the ground and sent him tumbling backwards with a yelp.

Rather than the cold, wet grass he’d braced himself for, he felt an arm around his waist catch him before he hit the ground. Cracking one eye open, he found himself staring up at a man he’d never seen before. His skin was tanned and his face unshaven, with a sharp, square jaw, deep-set blue eyes, and a mop of curly brown hair. 

“You spooked her,” The man said, yanking him upright with little finesse before turning and walking over to his horse. 

Clearing his throat, Klaus straightened his shirt and followed behind him. He watched as the man confidently reached out and placed his hand on the whinnying horse’s forehead, stroking her gently.

“Easy, girl. You’re okay,” He said softly, continuing to run his hand up and down her nose until she calmed, before patting her neck and turning back towards Klaus. “Why did you do that?”

“She made a noise,” Klaus said defensively, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment as the man’s eyes bore into him. 

“Yes, horses tend to do that,” He muttered in a patronising tone as he unhooked the latch on the stable door and strode inside. 

“What are you- Hey!” Klaus darted in after him, planting himself firmly in front of him and folding his arms. “You can’t come in here.”

“Yes, I can. Move.” 

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” The man shrugged, hooking his hands under Klaus’ arms. 

He stood a couple of inches shorter than Klaus, but with wider set shoulders and a lot more muscle, and he lifted Klaus off the ground like he weighed next to nothing, turning and setting him back down a couple of feet to the side. Klaus stared dumbly at him, having never been manhandled like that in his life, and watched as the man dumped a worn leather satchel on the floor, rooting around inside and pulling out a round brush. 

“Who are you, exactly?” He demanded as the man approached his horse, patting her back before starting to work the brush along her neck. 

“David Katz,” He told him as he worked. “Hargreeves hired me to take care of the stable.” 

“Well, you could have said that earlier.”

“You didn’t ask.” David looked over his shoulder at him with a smug grin on his face. “I take it you’re the pretty thing the old man’s taken a shine to?” 

“I’m Klaus,” He said, ignoring the snide tone of his voice and holding his hand out politely for him to shake. 

David cocked his eyebrow and took a step towards him, taking his hand, he bent down and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. 

“It’s a pleasure, your majesty,” He mocked, laughing when Klaus snatched his hand back in disgust. 

“You’re incredibly rude,” Klaus muttered and David shrugged. 

“And you’re incredibly irritating,” He remarked. “So here’s the deal. I’m gonna take care of this horse, and you’re gonna keep out of my way. Think you can manage that?”

Klaus narrowed his eyes at him. “I can manage that just  _ fine _ .” 

✢✢✢

_ Vegas. January 14th, 2019.  _

The vampire was on him before Dave had a chance to think. Icy hands cupping his face and deep, red eyes staring into his. 

“David,” The vampire repeated breathlessly, his brows knitting together in confusion. 

There was a faint hint of an accent in his voice, and a familiarity to it that Dave couldn’t fathom. Closer up, he could make out even more details in the vampire’s features. Flecks of glitter in the black eye makeup that caught the light as he moved, a notch in one of his pointed ears, and freckles that he could have pinpointed while blindfolded. The vampire seemed to be observing him in the same way, forcibly turning Dave’s head to the side to examine his neck, his throat, pushing his top lip up with his thumb to look at his teeth. 

“You’re human,” He said quietly. “How can you be human? How can you be  _ here?  _ How can…” The vampire paused, leaning in and sniffing his jacket. “Why do you smell of garbage?” 

“I… was in the dumpster,” Dave responded dumbly, frozen to the spot while the vampire continued to examine him. 

“Why were you in the… No. No, it doesn’t matter. It’s not important.” He waved his hand, beaming a toothy grin that flashed two razor-sharp fangs. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’ve been having the  _ strangest  _ dreams about you these past few days. I missed you so much.”

Gently, he traced his finger along his jaw, and Dave finally came back to his senses, shoving him away and staggering back a few steps. 

“Who are you?” He demanded and the vampire frowned, looking down at his hands for a moment and twisting one of his rings anxiously. 

“You don’t know me?” 

“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” Dave lied, slowly reaching behind him for one of the stakes tucked into his belt. 

“But you… you look  _ so much  _ like him,” He said. “How can-”

“Answer the question.”

The vampire shrunk in on himself a little, looking genuinely hurt by the sharp tone of voice. 

“Klaus,” He finally said, straightening back up and clearing his throat. “I’m Klaus. And since you’re  _ clearly  _ not who I thought you were, I think you should leave.”

“I’m not leaving until you’re dead.”

Dave whipped the stake out from his belt and held it out threateningly, but rather than attacking, Klaus just laughed. A high pitched, melodic sound that had filled Dave’s head many nights. 

“Well, that’s a little dramatic,” He said, folding his arms and cocking his eyebrow at him. “What do you wanna kill me for?”

“Because you’re a monster.”

“Okay, rude.”

“And you’ve been killing people,” Dave continued. “Innocent people are  _ dead _ . Because of  _ you _ .”

“David, I haven’t killed anyone.” Klaus took a step towards him. “Not  _ recently,  _ anyway. So unless you’re here to avenge someone who died two  _ centuries  _ ago, you’ve got the wrong house.” 

“Bullshit.”

Rolling his eyes, Klaus put his hands on his hips indignantly. “David-”

“It’s  _ Dave _ .”

“Dave? Dave. Dave Dave Dave Dave. Daaaaaaaavvvvvvvve.” Klaus repeated his name a few more times, wrapping his mouth around each letter before smacking his lips together and nodding. “Yeah, I can work with that. Alright,  _ Dave _ . I can see you’re very passionate about this little vendetta you’ve got going on, but I  _ promise  _ you, you’re out of your depth here. You need to let me handle this.”

“I’m not letting you  _ handle  _ anything,” Dave snapped, although it was clear Klaus wasn’t paying much attention to him anymore. “And I’m not letting you kill anyone else.”

“Hey, Dave?”

“I’ve killed  _ hundreds  _ of vampires, way more powerful than you, and I won’t stop until I’ve wiped out every last-”

“Dave!” Klaus repeated in a raised voice.

“What!?”

“Where did your friend go?” 

Frowning, Dave looked around the room and realised Elliot had disappeared. It wasn’t unusual for them to split up during hunts. It was quicker to cover ground that way, and they still had to look for Lila. He wasn’t particularly concerned, but Klaus looked frantic. 

“This is bad,” He said, drumming his long, painted nails against his chin. “We need to find him  _ right  _ now. Before they do.”

“Who’s  _ they?  _ ”

Before Klaus could answer him, an ear-splitting scream that he immediately recognised as Elliot’s echoed through the house, and the two of them darted towards the sound of the noise. Dave could hear Klaus muttering to himself as he ran behind him, struggling to match the vampire’s pace. They turned a corner and found Elliot, pinned to the wall with his feet dangling a foot above the ground and gasping for breath as another vampire slowly closed his fist around his throat. 

Dave vaguely recognised him. His skin was darker than Klaus’, greyish, lacking the usual warmth of a living person, with a full goatee, dark wavy hair that came down to his chin, and a thin scar running along the side of his face. Dark brows, knitted together angrily, cast a shadow over his eyes, which burned brilliant red, and his lips were twisted into a snarl that bared his fangs as he lifted Elliot higher up the wall. 

“Diego!” Klaus shouted as he marched over and swatted the other vampire on the shoulder. “What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?” 

“He broke in,” Diego hissed, the anger on his face intensifying as he glared up at Elliot. 

“That’s not a crime worthy of  _ capital punishment _ ,” Klaus exclaimed in apparent despair. “Put him down, you idiot. Jesus Christ.” 

Diego turned to look at Klaus for a second, then back up at Elliot, before rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t gonna  _ kill  _ him,” He muttered as he set him back down on the ground. “Just wanted to shit him up a little.”

No sooner had Elliot’s feet hit the floor, than he was pulling a silver knife out from his belt and plunging it into the vampire’s abdomen. 

“Ow!  _ Shit! _ What the  _ fuck!?  _ ” Diego yelled, yanking the knife out and glaring at Klaus. “ _ Now  _ can I kill him?” 

“No!”

“He just  _ shanked  _ me!” He pointed an accusing finger at Elliot, who was staring, open-mouthed in bewilderment. 

“Well, in his  _ defence,  _ Diego, you  _ did  _ just throttle him half to death,” Klaus muttered, and Diego scuffed his boot against the ground guiltily. 

“That was silver,” Elliot said meekly, unable to take his eyes off the knife in Diego’s hand. “That should have  _ paralysed  _ you.”

Without the snarl on his face, it was easier for Dave to place where he’d seen Diego before and it only took a second for him to recognise him from one of the newspaper articles he’d read. 

“You’re Diego Mendoza!” Dave said, snapping his fingers as the realisation finally hit him. “You were reported missing three weeks ago! You’re... a  _ vampire?  _ ” 

“Yeah, why don’t you say it a little louder so the whole street can hear you, asshole” Diego hissed. 

“He’s a newborn,” Klaus explained, patting Diego’s arm affectionately. “I found him, not long after he was turned, wandering around like a lost puppy. I figured the safest thing to do was bring him back here.”

“Safe for  _ who?  _ ” Elliot asked, narrowing his eyes at Diego suspiciously. 

“ _ Everyone _ . Newborns are a hundred times faster than most of us, a  _ million  _ times stronger. That’s why the silver didn’t even touch him. They’re the most powerful vampires you’ll ever find, and they have to try to learn to control that while every single instinct inside them is screaming that they need to feed. It’s rough.” Klaus paused, chewing on his lip for a moment. “As I said, I’m  _ handling  _ it. They haven’t hurt anybody.” 

“ _ They?  _ ” Elliot frowned at him. “Wait… Is Lila one of them too?”

“She was turned eight days ago.” Klaus nodded. “She’s even stronger than Diego.” 

While Klaus was talking, Dave noticed Diego’s eyes widening as he focused upon the ceiling behind him, shuffling behind Klaus and silently trying to get his attention. 

“She managed to fight off whoever turned her. I’ve never known  _ anybody  _ to do that before, and- what do you  _ want?  _ I’m  _ talking!  _ ” Klaus looked at Diego crossly, following his eyes up to the ceiling and turning even paler. “Oh shit.”

Dave felt a cool breath in his hair, and the next thing he knew he was being thrown to the floor, barely having enough time to brace his hands out and stop himself from hitting his head on the stone. Sharp claws dug into his arm and flipped him onto his back, and he found himself staring up at Lila, her skin grey and lifeless, and her eyes jet black. She hissed at him, baring sharp fangs and drooling saliva that burned faintly when it hit his face. 

“Lila,  _ stop!  _ ” Klaus shrieked, throwing himself at her. 

He managed to wrestle her away from Dave, shoving her a few feet down the hall and pinning her down. Screaming, she kicked him hard into the ceiling, smashing the bulbs of several hanging lights and sending several vases flying as he crashed back down to the ground. Lila’s head snapped back up and her eyes locked on to Elliot. In a blur, she disappeared, reappearing a few seconds later when an opposing blur collided with her. Diego locked his arms around her and yanked her on to the floor, wrapping his legs around her waist and pinning her arms to her sides. 

“Klaus!” He yelled, rolling across the floor as she thrashed her legs wildly. 

Struggling to his feet, Klaus staggered down the hall and disappeared around the corner. Dave could hear clattering noises from another room, and soon Klaus returned with an armful of dark red pouches. He crouched down next to the two of them, tearing one of the pouches open with his teeth and shoving it into Lila’s mouth. 

“You’re okay,” He said soothingly as she stilled, draining the first bag and immediately reaching out for another. 

Klaus tossed the empty bag across the floor, and Dave was able to make out the medical labels marking it as a blood transfusion bag. He looked back over at Lila, now free of Diego’s grip, curled up tightly with her head nestled against his shoulder and another transfusion bag clutched in her shaking hands. She was drinking more slowly now, looking around the room with wide, scared eyes that had faded back to a deep red. Klaus sat back on the ground breathlessly and ran his fingers through her hair before looking up at Dave and shrugging. 

“Kids. Am I right?” 

It wasn’t exactly how Dave had envisioned the day going, but he found himself sitting on one of Klaus’ plush couches, with Elliot next to him, and the two newborn vampires watching them from the couch opposite. The four of them sat in awkward silence while Klaus swept the broken glass off the floor. Dave kept his hands firmly planted on his legs, perching on the very edge of the couch to avoid disturbing the mass of pillows and blankets behind him. 

“Can I get anyone a drink?” Klaus asked once he’d finished cleaning, propping himself up on the broom he was holding. 

Diego and Lila both raised their hands in unison, and Klaus looked over at Dave and Elliot expectantly. 

“Yeah, I think we’ll pass on that,” Dave said with a grimace, glancing down at the deep red stain on the floor while Elliot made a retching noise next to him. 

“Oh! No no no, I have regular drinks too!” Klaus cocked his head at him. “What’s your poison? Bourbon? Wine? Tequila? I have this vintage port I bought back in 1917 that I’m dying to try.”

“Can I change my order to tequila?” Diego piped up and Klaus shook his head. 

“Abso _ lutely  _ not! You’re far too young.”

“I’m twenty-eight.” 

“And I’m three hundred and twenty…” Klaus trailed off, counting on his fingers and mouthing silently to himself. “Three! Three hundred and twenty-three. I think. We are not the same.  _ Trust  _ me, having alcohol in your system would not be a fun time for any of us.” 

“This is bullshit,” Diego muttered as he slumped back against the cushions. “I can get stabbed in the fuckin’ spleen but I can’t get drunk.”

“You got stabbed in the  _ spleen?  _ ” Lila asked, her face lighting up with excitement as she sat upright. “Show me!” 

Diego lifted his shirt up to reveal the fading pink mark on his abdomen and Lila grinned. 

“No way!” She exclaimed as she traced over the wound with her finger. “I wanna get stabbed! Quick, one of you, stab me!”

“ _ Nobody  _ is stabbing  _ anybody  _ else in my house!” Klaus shouted from the kitchen. 

“And where was that energy when  _ I  _ was getting stabbed!?” Diego snapped back.

“ _ You _ deserved it!” 

Before Diego had a chance to argue, he was smacked in the face by a transfusion bag Klaus tossed at him. Lila cackled, reaching up to high-five Klaus as he handed her a pouch, before pacing across the room and squashing himself between Dave and Elliot on the couch. Dave was aware that he was staring as Klaus settled himself back against the cushions, still unable to shake the intense feeling of deja vu that had been fogging his brain ever since he set eyes on him. 

“This is nice,” Klaus said, oblivious to Dave’s staring. “I can’t remember the last time I had this many guests. Probably when I was living in Venice in the 1930s. I used to throw some pretty wild parties back then. But then they started popularising  _ nightclubs  _ which, by the way, are one of the best things humans have ever come up with. I mean it’s literally a ready-made party at  _ night _ . Genius! Anyway, point is, it’s nice to have people in the house again. What shall we do? Charades? Do people still play charades?” Klaus turned towards him, cocking his head and smiling. “Dave? Charades?” 

“No, we’re not staying!” Elliot blurted out and Klaus’ face fell as he turned around to face him.

“What? Why not?” 

“What are you- because we’re vampire hunters! And you’re  _ vampires!  _ And you were trying to kill us five minutes ago! And I don’t even understand what the  _ fuck  _ is happenig right now!”

“Dave, I think your friend is having a panic attack,” Klaus whispered, leaning towards him. 

“And  _ why  _ are you two on a first name basis!?” Elliot snapped as he jumped to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at Dave. “And why is that guy  _ playing  _ with a silver knife!?”

They all looked over at Diego, who had reclined on the couch with his head against the armrest, tossing the knife into the air and catching it. 

“What?” He asked, looking over at Elliot. “I’m not giving it back.”

“If someone stabs you, you are  _ legally  _ allowed to keep the knife,” Lila added sagely, and Diego nodded in agreement. 

“It was supposed to  _ kill  _ you!” 

“Elliot, calm down,” Dave said, taking a step towards him. 

“Yeah, calm down,  _ Elliot _ ,” Lila goaded, which only made Elliot go redder in the face. 

“I already told you, they’re newborns,” Klaus said calmly. 

“And they’ve been  _ killing  _ people!”

“They haven’t killed anyone!” Klaus let out a frustrated sigh as he slumped back against the cushions. “Honestly, you two call yourselves vampire hunters? I show you two newborns and all you can think about is whether or not they’ve  _ killed  _ anyone. Christ.” 

The tone of Klaus’ voice piqued Dave’s interest. It was reminiscent of the way Vanya used to talk to him when she was quizzing him with different hunting scenarios, trying to guide him towards the answers without doing all the work for him. 

“You know what’s going on around here, don’t you?” He said. 

It was more of a statement than a question, and Klaus smiled that familiar crooked smile in response, cocking his eyebrow at him. 

“I don’t, actually,” He replied. “Not yet at least. But I get the impression I know a damn sight more than the two of you. So if your buddy here can stop  _ yelling _ at everyone for five minutes, then maybe we can figure out a way to help each other.” 

“We are  _ not  _ helping you!” Elliot protested, shaking his head in outrage while Klaus rolled his eyes. 

“Darling, I’m not the one who needs help here.”

Elliot opened his mouth to argue, but Dave jumped to his feet and grabbed him by the arm before he could say anything. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” He asked. “Outside?”

He forcefully led Elliot across the room and through the archway before he could protest, marching them both a few paces up the hall until he was sure they were out of earshot of the vampires. Letting go of Elliot’s arm, he turned towards him and began whispering in a hushed voice. 

“What is the matter with you?” He asked, smacking Elliot on the arm. “You’re making us both look like idiots!”

“ _ Me?  _ ” Elliot whispered back as he shoved Dave’s chest lightly. “I’m not the one getting all  _ cosy  _ with a bunch of  _ blood-suckers!  _ ”

“He said he can help us!”

“Yeah, sure! I bet he’ll give us  _ plenty  _ of help! Right after he’s lured us both down into his sadistic  _ torture  _ dungeon and eaten us alive!” Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Have you gone completely insane, Dave? Look at them. Those  _ things  _ are killing  _ machines!  _ ”

Dave craned his neck to look back through the archway where Diego had curled himself up amongst the pillows, his head nodding as he tried to stop himself from falling asleep, while Klaus laid a blanket on top of him and Lila sat with her tongue poked out in concentration, carefully painted his toenails with bright blue polish. 

“Sure. Yeah,” He said as he slowly turned back towards Elliot. “But that’s my whole point. If they wanted to kill us, wouldn’t they have done it already? Klaus actually  _ stopped  _ them from-”

“And that’s another thing,” Elliot interrupted sharply. “How the hell did that guy know your name?”

“What are you talking about?”

“As soon as he saw you! He called you ‘David’!”

Dave was still trying to figure that one out for himself. The look of recognition on Klaus’ face the second they made eye contact was still seared into his brain, and so far he’d been unable to come up with a plausible explanation. It was as though he was still trapped inside one of his dreams, only this time his body had decided not to wake up. 

Still, he tried to remain nonchalant, thankful that he’d never gone into much detail when describing his dreams to Elliot before. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, folding his arms defensively. “He probably heard you talking to me.” 

“But I didn’t-”

“Hey, can you guys keep it down?” Klaus appeared next to them, making them both jump with a start. 

“Christ,” Elliot muttered as he clutched his chest, and Klaus chuckled. 

“Look, I want to help, truly, but it’s pretty early and all this excitement is tiring the little ones out.” He gestured behind him, where Lila had abandoned Diego’s pedicure in favour of curling up beside him. “So do you think we could continue this conversation a little later in the day?” 

“Perfect. We were actually  _ just  _ leaving,” Elliot said, giving Dave a hard stare. 

Klaus smiled widely at them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders as he led them down the hall towards the door. 

“Next time you decide to drop by, please don’t break my locks. Otherwise, I might have to kill you!” He patted Elliot on the back and gave Dave a wink. “Just kidding. Obviously.”

With a shudder, Elliot pushed the door open and started making his way back to the car, muttering under his breath as he left. Dave went to follow him, but something made him pause. He lingered in the doorway for a moment before glancing back at Klaus, stood a few feet away in the shadows, watching him with a familiar intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. 

“You said you dreamt about me,” He said, taking a step back towards the vampire. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Klaus admitted. “I thought… You look like somebody I knew a long,  _ long  _ time ago.” He paused, reaching up and tracing his fingers along Dave’s jaw. “You look  _ so  _ much like him. I could never forget his face, he… he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever known but…” He shook his head and snatched his hand back. “He’s dead. You can’t be him.” 

The pain in Klaus’ eyes sent a jolt through him like a knife in his chest, and he hung his head sadly. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, though he wasn’t really sure what he was sorry for. “Thanks for, you know, not killing us earlier.” 

The corner of Klaus’ mouth twitched into a smile, and as Dave turned to leave for a second time, he felt him tug on his jacket sleeve. 

“Dave,” He said as he pulled him back. “Vampire turning is  _ rare _ . I’ve only met one other newborn in my whole life. And now there are two, in the same town, turned  _ days  _ apart from each other. Whatever’s going on here is a lot bigger than the two of you.  _ Please  _ be careful.” 

Nodding, Dave left, shutting the door behind him and jogging to catch up with Elliot on the other side of the street. 

The drive back to their motel was silent, with Elliot staring fixedly out of the window with his arms tightly folded, while Dave tried to make some kind of sense of all the thoughts buzzing around in his head. Elliot didn’t wait for him when they pulled into the parking lot, getting out of the car and heading into the building without so much as a glance in his direction. 

“Elliot,” Dave said when he caught up to him in the room, and Elliot spun around to face him. 

“I can’t believe we just walked away from a den of  _ three  _ vampires,” He spat. “What the hell has gotten into you!?” 

“We don’t have any proof that they’re the ones killing people.”

“Since when have you needed  _ proof?  _ When I first started out in this job it was  _ you  _ who told me to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Sure, but…” Dave trailed off, unable to think of a decent counterpoint, and Elliot cocked his eyebrow expectantly. 

“But what? One vampire makes goo-goo eyes at you and suddenly they’re the good guys?”

There was no explanation he could possibly give that would make a single shred of sense to Elliot, or to anyone for that matter, so he stayed quiet, pursing his lips and heading towards the bathroom. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” He muttered, shutting the door behind him before Elliot could get another word in. 

Inside the cramped bathroom, he shrugged off his jacket and turned to try and examine his shoulder in the mirror. Lila’s claws had torn clean through the leather of his jacket, ripping open his shirt and leaving four bloody gashes across his back. They were only surface flesh wounds, and he was able to clean most of the dried blood away with a damp towel before getting in the shower. The combination of the stinging in his shoulder, the freezing cold water, and the unsettling creaking noise the pipes made every so often, still weren’t enough to drive the image of Klaus’ face out of his mind. The smile he’d seen a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. He knew it was the same face, but so far he’d been unable to come up with any kind of explanation for how that could be. Or for how Klaus seemed to know  _ him _ . 

Elliot was asleep on the bed when he eventually came out, snoring loudly with the book he’d been reading still open on his chest. Creeping across the creaking floor to avoid disturbing him, Dave sat on his own bed and propped himself up against the pillows, grabbing the collection of newspaper articles they’d been hoarding from the bedside table and going back over each one, with Klaus’ parting words to him still going around in his brain. 

That night he dreamt of Klaus again, only this time it was different. It was dark, the floor was cold and damp, and Klaus didn’t seem to be aware that he was there. He was curled up on the floor, shaking violently and whimpering as he approached. No sound came out when Dave tried to speak, and his arms felt as though they were pinned to his sides, unable to reach out to him. Klaus said something in a language he didn’t understand and looked up, away from him, towards the barred metal door a few feet away from them. There was blood on his face, and his clothes, and when Klaus finally looked at him he could see that his eyes were red, not green. 

He was woken up by Elliot smacking him over the head with a rolled-up newspaper. 

“Wake up, asshole,” He said, throwing the paper into his lap and folding his arms while Dave dragged a hand down his face. 

“What the hell?” He asked as he sat upright. 

“Your new  _ pal  _ had a  _ real _ busy night last night.” Elliot jabbed a finger at the newspaper headline, and when Dave read it, his blood turned cold. 

_ Break-in at local Blood Bank. Four found dead.  _


	3. Palm lines

_ Munich. December 22nd, 1713. _

“How long have you been working with horses?” 

David let out a huff of irritation, as though Klaus’ very existence was stopping him from being able to continue with his work. It was a sound he’d grown quite accustomed to over the past three months. Despite the instant disliking they’d taken to each other, Klaus had found that the stable provided a much needed escape from the stuffy confines of the house and the hushed whispers of his parents. In most circumstances, David wouldn’t exactly be his first choice of company, but the frequent tuts and petty insults were such a stark contrast to the way everybody else treated him, it was almost refreshing. 

He’d been sitting on the cold barn floor for the last two hours, with his back resting against a bale of hay and his bare feet melting the thin layer of snow that had blown in overnight. David had been quick to make a comment on that, but Klaus liked the cold, and he hadn’t probed any further. He had brought a book down with him to read, but so far he’d got as far as the first page, his attention constantly being drawn to the different sounds and smells around him. 

“Look, it’s bad enough you being down here all the time, without you poking your nose into my personal life too,” David said, not looking up as he continued meticulously scraping the mud out of Beatrice’s back hoof with a sharp pick. “What’s it matter to you how long I’ve worked with ‘em?”

“I was just making small talk,” Klaus muttered. 

“Well, don’t.” 

Klaus looked back down at his book, and Dave continued with his work for a minute before sighing and leaning against the wooden beam beside him. 

“My father was a saddler. I’ve been around horses as long as I can remember,” He explained, turning his attention back to Beatrice’s hooves. “He made a few saddles for Hargreeves’ horses. That’s how he knew me.” 

“Saddles?” Klaus’ eyes drifted over to the dull brown, second-hand saddle he’d been given. “Could he make one for Beatrice?”

“Doubt it,” David said with a grunt as he pried a stone out from her foot. “He died three years ago.” 

“Oh.” Klaus blinked, David’s bluntness catching him off guard. “I’m sorry.” 

David didn’t say anything, patting Beatrice’s leg and encouraging her to set her foot back on the ground before shifting along and lifting her left leg. 

“What about your mother?” 

“Died when I was a baby.”

“David-”

“If you’re about to tell me how  _ sorry  _ you are for me, can you at least give me a heads up so I can find a bucket to vomit in first?” He gave him a cold look, and Klaus folded his arms indignantly. 

“They were your  _ parents _ .” 

“Yeah, and they’re dead. And the last thing I need is sympathy from people like  _ you  _ when-  _ shit!  _ ”

The sound of the metal pick hitting the floor startled Klaus and he jumped to his feet, looking over at David who was clutching his hand. 

“What happened?” He asked, taking a step towards him. 

“Nothing,” David muttered. “I just scratched myself.” 

“You’re bleeding.” 

David looked down at the bright red blood oozing out between his fingers, wincing and shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Let me see,” Klaus said as he reached out towards him, frowning when David snatched his hand out of his reach. “It needs cleaning.”

“I have work to do.”

“If you keep working like that it’ll get infected and you’ll lose your whole arm. Now stop being a child and  _ show  _ me.” 

Klaus had never raised his voice at him before, or at anyone for that matter, and David stared open-mouth at him for a second before tentatively offering his hand out to him. 

There was a large gash across his palm, from his ring finger to the base of his thumb. Not too deep, but deep enough to bleed. A lot. David made a muffled noise when he looked down at the wound, and some of the colour drained from his face as he quickly looked away again. 

“You might need that bucket after all,” Klaus said with a smug grin, padding across the stable floor to find the small box of dressings he’d brought down when he first saw some of the sharp tools David had to work with. 

There was a small tap just outside the stable which provided drinking water for Beatrice, and he filled a small pail before sitting himself down beside David and started wetting a flannel to clean the wound. 

“Ow!” David hissed when he pressed the flannel to his hand, trying to pull away from him. 

“Sit  _ still _ ,” Klaus ordered. “You’ll make it worse.”

“You’re the one making it worse!” 

“Well,” He said as he dabbed the blood away, “maybe  _ next  _ time you should concentrate on what you’re doing, instead of trying to find new ways to insult me.” 

“Maybe  _ next  _ time you should stop distracting me when I’m trying to work,” David muttered, wincing as Klaus got closer to the open wound. 

“Maybe if you stopped treating my  _ existence _ as a personal slight against you, you wouldn’t be so distracted!” 

“And maybe if you stopped  _ swanning _ around here in your fancy clothes, with your expensive books and thoroughbred horse you don’t even  _ care  _ about, I wouldn’t find your existence so  _ insulting!  _ ”

Klaus pursed his lips angrily and looked back down at David’s hand, pressing firmly against the edge of the cut and making him hiss in pain. 

“You did that on purpose,” He muttered, waiting a moment for Klaus to respond before scoffing loudly. “Wow. So you  _ do  _ know how to stop talking. Who would’ve guessed.”

Staying silent, Klaus rinsed the blood out of the flannel before moving on to the center of the wound. Despite David’s determination to upset him, he still took care to be as gentle as possible as he cleaned the exposed flesh. He seemed to pick up on Klaus’ efforts, staying quiet and doing his best to keep his hand still for him. It wasn’t until Klaus had finished, discarding the flannel and reaching for the roll of bandages, that David spoke again. 

“Why do you keep coming down here?” He asked as Klaus wound the bandage around his hand. “You’ve got a big warm house with servants waiting on you hand and foot, and instead you come and sit in horse muck in the freezing cold to listen to me insulting you. I don’t get it.”

“I come to see Beatrice,” He replied frankly, not looking up from what he was doing. 

“Bullshit.” 

Klaus paused, still staring fixedly down at David’s hand while his eyes bore into him. 

“They make me feel like a ghost in that house,” He said quietly. “They talk about me as though I’m not even there, making all my choices for me and deciding what kind of a person I’m supposed to be, never asking what I want. And I don’t want  _ any  _ of it. Sometimes I want to stand in the middle of the room and  _ scream _ , just to see what they would do. If they would even react. You say the most awful things to me when I come here but… at least you look at me when you say them. That’s more than anybody else has ever done.” 

David didn’t say anything, but Klaus could feel him watching as he finished dressing his hand. 

“Try moving your fingers,” He instructed before he secured the bandages. “It shouldn’t be too tight.”

Klaus couldn’t help but smile at the way David cautiously wiggled his fingers, as though he were afraid they were going to fall off if he made any sudden movements. He wiggled them again, a little faster this time, before flexing and curling them around Klaus’ own fingers, still holding the bandages in place on his palm. His hand was warm, and for a moment neither of them moved. Klaus looked up, meeting Dave’s stare for just a second before they both snatched their hands away as though they’d been burned. 

Clearing his throat awkwardly, David offered his hand back so Klaus could secure the bandages properly, mumbling a quiet “thanks” before they both returned to their separate ends of the stable. Klaus settled himself back amongst the straw with his book, and tried to ignore the way his heart was hammering in his chest. 

✢✢✢

_ Vegas. January 15th, 2019.  _

Dave had read the entire article three times now, while Elliot paced restlessly back and forth across the creaking floorboards.

“We can’t be certain it’s them,” He said, finally breaking the silence that had been hanging over them for the last half hour. 

“Sure, Dave. You’re right.” Elliot folded his arms and stared at him incredulously, the sarcasm evident in his voice. “Maybe the vampire blatantly sucking on a transfusion bag a few hours ago  _ didn’t  _ break into the blood bank. Maybe… maybe it  _ wasn’t  _ his little troop of bloodthirsty newborns that just massacred a bunch of people. Can you  _ please  _ get a grip?” 

“I’m just saying that-”

“I don’t care!” Elliot shouted, throwing his arms up in the air. “I  _ literally  _ do not care anymore. I don’t understand why you’re  _ so  _ determined to defend this guy.”

Dave didn’t understand that either. In fact, he didn’t really understand much of anything that had happened in the last twelve hours. The only thing he  _ did  _ know was that even when Klaus had been inches away from him, eyes burning into him as he held his face and inspected him, Dave hadn’t felt that same sense of fear every other vampire instilled in him. There was something deep inside telling him that Klaus wasn’t a threat, and, even stranger, telling Dave that he should protect him. 

“We should go check the place out, see if there were any witnesses,” Dave said as he got to his feet. “We find a single  _ scrap  _ of evidence that points to Klaus, I’ll admit that you were right and we’ll…” He trailed off, finding himself unable to actually  _ say  _ the words. “We’ll do what we have to.” 

Elliot considered that for a moment before nodding, and the two of them grabbed their discarded gear and headed back out to the car. 

The blood bank was a square, sandy coloured building, sticking out like a sore thumb against the black tarmac parking lot that surrounded it on all sides. Dozens of brightly coloured promotional posters littered the front of the building, overlapping and peeling off of one another, and four grey, concrete pillars stood in front, supporting a flat roof that jutted out and sheltered the entrance doors. On a normal day, Dave imagined it would be a rather unassuming building, but when they pulled up on the road opposite, it was swarming with ambulances and police cars, with bright yellow tape lining the perimeter and uniformed officers guarding the entrance. 

“Did you bring the FBI badges?” Dave asked as he looked over at Elliot, whose eyes had already lit up with excitement. 

“I  _ always  _ bring the FBI badges,” He replied and Dave shook his head. 

“Stop it.”

“What?” 

“You do this  _ every  _ time,” He said. “You’re gonna come up with some  _ ridiculously  _ elaborate backstory for yourself and end up blowing our cover because you can’t stop yourself from trying to share all the tragic details with real, trained police officers.” 

Elliot was quiet for a moment, twiddling his thumbs before looking back over at him. 

“Okay but I have a  _ really  _ good one this time.”

“Oh my god.” 

“I’ve been an agent for seven years now. I’m good, with a solid record, but I’ve been known to fly off the handle on a few occasions. My father was my motivation for joining, and sometimes that emotional connection can be my downfall.”

Sighing defeatedly, Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. “What happened to your father?”

“He was a dentist, but he had debts. Got himself mixed up with some bad people. One day a Swedish gang showed up and tortured and killed him... with his own dentistry equipment.”

Dave stared at him in disbelief for a moment while Elliot grinned proudly. 

“What is wrong with you?” 

“I’ve been able to trace a lot of my issues back to one singular traumatic event from when I was nine.”

“Why  _ Swedish?  _ ”

“Thought I’d add some European flair,” He said with a shrug. “Come on. What’s your backstory?”

“My backstory is that I’m a normal person who doesn’t share random, incredibly personal details of my life with people I just met.” 

Elliot pursed his lips, and the two of them got out of the car and headed over to the building. 

A police woman with blonde hair in a braid was the first to notice them, purposefully blocking their path and folding her arms. 

“Sorry, fellas,” She said as she gestured to the police tape behind her. “This place is off limits.”

“Actually, we’re taking over this case.” Dave handed her his badge, watching as she inspected it. “Effective immediately.”

“What interest do the feds have in a couple of dead clerks?” She asked as she handed the badge back. 

“That’s classified.” 

“Did anybody see what happened?” Elliot asked and she shrugged.

“We’ve got one witness who was passing by when the break-in happened. Not much of a talker though.”

“Sounds like my father,” Elliot said, nodding solemnly. 

“I’m sorry?”

While Elliot began his attempts to shoehorn his bizarre fake story into the conversation, Dave made his way further around the circle of police tape, trying to get a better view of the building. There were a few small shrubs and clusters of flowers planted along the front of the building, and a tall, leafy mesquite tree stood a few feet to the side. As Dave got closer, he spotted a familiar figure standing in the shade of the tree, smoking a cigarette and leaning on a closed parasol. 

“You know, Dave,” Klaus said when he spotted him approaching, taking a drag of his cigarette to punctuate his sentence. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were following me.” 

“Lucky you  _ do  _ know better then.”

Klaus grinned at the quip, nudging the dark, circular sunglasses he was wearing a little further down his nose and giving Dave a flash of his bright red eyes. How nobody else had noticed him was a mystery. His loose fitting black jacket, heavily embellished with swirling patterns of gold beads and thread, didn’t exactly help him to blend in with the surroundings. Paired with skinny jeans, a green chiffon shirt, and matching emerald boots, it was like he was  _ asking  _ to be looked at. Yet, somehow, nobody so much as turned their head towards him. 

“What are you doing here?” Dave asked him.

“Same thing as you, I imagine.” 

Letting his parasol fall to the ground, Klaus reached into his pocket and offered out a box of cigarettes from a brand Dave didn’t recognise. 

“You want one?”

Instinctively, Dave took one, while Klaus struck a match to light it. It didn’t taste like any cigarette he’d ever smoked before, and Klaus sniggered at his perplexed expression. 

“These haven’t been in production since the 80’s,” He explained. “They’re a little stale now, but still better than a lot of the shit you people smoke nowadays.” 

“Isn’t smoking a little… pointless for you?” 

“Depends on what you think the point is,” Klaus said with a shrug. “If anything, it makes more sense for me to do it. These things will  _ kill _ you, you know.” 

Taking a final drag, he dropped the cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with his boot, leaning against the trunk of the tree nonchalantly. 

“Hey, where’s your neurotic friend by the way?” He asked. “I’ve got a good mind to bill him for damages to that vase. It was a fake, but he doesn’t have to know that.”

“He’s talking to the cops,” Dave said, glancing over his shoulder to where a small crowd of officers had gathered to listen to Elliot’s rambling. “And probably getting himself arrested. He thinks you’re behind the break in.” 

“Me? Why would I break in? I have a key.” Klaus reached into his pocket again, this time producing a small ring of keys and twirling them around his finger. “I bought this place twenty years ago, when I first moved here. And this is the first time any sick bastard has tried  _ breaking in _ .” 

Dave frowned at him. “If you  _ own  _ the building, why are you hiding over here?”

“I have a complicated history with law enforcement.” He shrugged. “They don’t like me very much.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Dave mumbled and Klaus grinned. 

“No! No, no, it’s nothing too extreme,” He assured him. “A few counts of petty theft, public indecency, drug possession, grand theft auto, some light arson… I stole a _llama_ a few decades ago that they’re still mad about. And then there’s all the fraud, but that’s not my fault. It’s not like I can get any _legal_ documents. Is it even a crime to steal your own identity?” 

“I don’t…  _ How  _ have they not locked you up yet?”

“Well what are they gonna do? Put a warrant out? I’ve been legally dead for the last three hundred years.” Klaus bent down to pick up his parasol, unfolding it before taking a step out from the shade of the tree. “Now are you coming to take a look at this bloodbath or what?” 

He started marching purposefully around the building towards a door in the side wall, barely visible among the overgrown shrubs, and Dave hastily extinguished his cigarette and followed behind him. The rusted hinges of the door creaked and groaned as Klaus pried it open, revealing a narrow, brightly lit corridor, and he ushered Dave inside before shutting the door again behind them. 

The heels of Klaus’ boots clicked melodically against the tiled floor as they walked, and Dave’s eyes were drawn to the row of framed photos along the wall, showing Klaus posing with the clinic staff through the years. 

“Do they know?” He asked when he noticed Klaus watching him. “That you’re a vampire, I mean?”

“What a bizarre question,” Klaus remarked, though his tone sounded affectionate rather than judgemental. “No. Of course they don’t. It’s not the kind of thing you can just drop into casual conversation.” 

“No, but… Surely they don’t just let you  _ take  _ the blood without any questions?”

“They think I’m a doctor, conducting some  _ very  _ obscure hematology research,” He explained, waving his hand as he spoke. “I come here every few months for ‘samples’, and then I send some money to a few  _ legitimate  _ research centres to clear my conscience.” 

“So you’re lying to them,” Dave said flatly and Klaus chuckled.

“Well,  _ technically  _ I am a doctor… Of linguistics. Although I graduated at least a hundred years ago now. Do degrees  _ expire? _ ” He paused as they reached another door, punching a sequence of numbers into the lock and twisting it open. “And anyway, in terms of morality, I’d say a few white lies here and there still trumps  _ eating  _ people.” 

The door led them into a large waiting room, with pale, polished wooden floors and a high ceiling. Plush grey and white chairs were set out in four neat rows in the centre of the room, with matching couches against the back wall, and a curved reception desk stood on the opposite side against a deep purple accent wall. What Dave assumed was once a glass dividing wall was now smashed, and shards of glass stained with blood were scattered across the floor, glinting in the light from the lamps overhead. One body lay slumped over the desk, with thick blood trailing down the side and pooling on the floor beneath them. Another lay just behind the shattered remains of the glass divider, presumably having been thrown into it. 

Klaus had a sad look on his face when Dave looked over at him, making his way over to the body at the desk. 

“You know him?” He asked, watching as Klaus removed his sunglasses to inspect the man’s face. 

“Herb... He brought me a coffee from the machine the last time I visited. It was  _ terrible _ , but very sweet of him. Nobody had ever brought me a coffee here before. Hey, look at this.” Klaus beckoned him over and pointed to the deep gashes on his neck. “This was done with claws, not teeth.”

“So?”

“So, whoever did this didn’t drink any blood. These people weren’t killed for food, they were killed because they were in the way.”

Dave frowned, looking over at the other body laid out on the floor. “So you’re saying this wasn’t a random attack?” 

“They were looking for something.” Klaus nodded in agreement, chewing on his lip thoughtfully for a moment before nodding towards a door at the other end of the room. “The blood bank is this way.” 

The door led them into another corridor, with wide, open doorways spaced across both walls. Each was numbered, going all the way up to thirty as far as Dave could see, and through the doorways he could see four donor chairs, separated by grey curtains. Klaus was marching purposefully down the corridor and Dave had to practically jog to keep up with him, though he still got the impression Klaus was actively slowing himself down so he could follow. 

“Out of curiosity,” Dave said as they passed doors ten and eleven. “Do you know any other vampires in the area?”

Klaus let out a high pitched laugh at that, turning to look at him and cocking his brow when he realised he was serious. 

“Dave, we’re in Vegas.” He paused as they passed another dead body lying on the floor, frowning and stepping carefully over them. “This place is crawling with vampires. We have our own  _ nightclubs _ .” 

Struggling to think of a response that  _ wouldn’t  _ make him look like an idiot, Dave just stared dumbly at him while Klaus smiled. 

“For a self-proclaimed vampire hunter, you don’t know a lot about them, do you?” Klaus observed. “It isn’t going to be as simple as finding the  _ only  _ other vampire in the city and pinning this on them.”

“Alright.” Dave nodded, speeding up for a few steps to catch up as Klaus marched ahead. “Then how do we find who’s behind this?”

“What? I don’t know, this is supposed to be  _ your  _ thing. I don’t generally spend my time tracking down other vampires. Unless I’m looking to hook up. But I still tend to _ try _ and avoid the cold-blooded murdering types.” 

They reached a thick, metal door at the other end of the corridor, and Klaus punched another code into a pad to unlock it. A fourth body lay just behind the door, presumably having let the intruder inside before being killed. Klaus seemed to be thinking the same thing, looking back at the closed door behind them and frowning. 

“The report said there were four people killed, right?” He asked and Dave nodded. “And we’ve already found four bodies.”

“What’s your point?”

“The blood bank is behind that door.” Klaus pointed to another reinforced metal door a few feet away. “You need another code to get in. If they’d already killed everyone in the building by this point, there would have been nobody left to give them the last code.”

The two of them examined the door. There was no sign of it being forced open, or of any kind of tampering. Unlocking the door, Klaus pushed it open and quickly ushered Dave through. 

There was a noticeable drop in temperature inside, and the tall refrigerators lining the wall made the room feel claustrophobic. Each fridge was labelled with a blood group, with shelves piled with transfusion bags inside. Klaus picked up a clipboard from the side and examined it, walking along the row of fridges and inspecting each one in turn before turning back towards him with a confused look on his face.

“Nothing’s been taken.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not sure how else I can phrase that for you, Dave.” Klaus handed the clipboard to him, pointing to what, in Dave’s eyes, looked like an incomprehensible list of numbers. “This is yesterday’s storage check. Everything’s still here.”

Dave blinked at him. “They didn’t take  _ any  _ blood?” 

“They didn’t take any blood,” Klaus repeated, the disbelief evident in his voice. 

“So… A vampire broke in, killed everyone in their path, and then just… left? Are we sure we’re looking for a vampire and not a regular maniac?” 

For once, Klaus didn’t seem to have anything to say in response, in fact he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what Dave said at all. His eyes were focused on Dave’s left hand, loosely holding the clipboard, and his brows knitted together with an emotion Dave couldn’t quite pinpoint. Carefully, Klaus took the clipboard and set it aside, before taking Dave’s hand in his and examining his palm. 

“How did you get this?” He asked, his voice coming out as a whisper as he traced along the crease in Dave’s palm that ran from his thumb to his ring finger.

“I don’t know,” Dave told him, never having paid much attention to the lines in his hands before. “It’s always been there.” 

“It’s an unusual place for a palm line.”

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him as Klaus continued gently tracing his palm with his finger. For a moment, they were somewhere else. He could smell open summer air and feel grass under his feet, and when he looked up he saw green eyes staring back at him. 

“Dave?”

He blinked, and Klaus’ red eyes blinked back at him, his head tilted curiously. Dave pulled his hand away and shoved them into his pockets, clearing his throat and looking back over at the door.

“We should…” He trailed off, trying to organise his thoughts. “Is there anything else valuable in this place? Anything someone would want to steal?” 

“Yeah. Yes, well, there’s all sorts of medical equipment,” Klaus said with a nod, still sounding a little distracted. “And computers, I imagine. There’s a storeroom across the hall we can check. You go ahead, I’ll be with you in a second.”

Hesitantly, Dave pulled the door open and headed across the hall through an unassuming doorway. He stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw the room. In stark contrast to the untouched blood bank, this place looked as though it had been hit by a tornado. Every drawer that could be opened had been, every cabinet door opened and the contents scattered about the place. Behind him, he heard a whistle as Klaus caught sight of the mess, walking up beside him with a thermal bag slung over his shoulder. It wasn’t hard for Dave to guess what was inside, and Klaus shrugged when he saw Dave looking. 

“I have two newborns at home,” He said defensively. “They’re burning through my supply.” Taking another step into the room, he put his hands on his hips and looked around. “Do you suppose the staff  _ always  _ leave this place in such a mess?”

Dave chuckled. “Looks like you were right. Someone was  _ definitely  _ looking for something.” 

“Mm,” Klaus hummed. “This is where they keep the equipment for blood drawing. Antiseptic, IV bags, butterfly needles, all that crap.” 

“How do you know so much about this stuff?”

“I’m a trained phlebotomist,” He said. “Or I was. I haven’t renewed my license in about twenty years.”

“Right.” Dave rolled his eyes while Klaus sniggered, watching him search through the opened drawers for a moment before speaking again. “Okay, can I ask you a personal question?” 

Klaus cocked his head at him, his eyes glinting as a smile spread across his face. 

“Only if I get to ask one in return,” He bargained. 

After considering that for a moment, Dave nodded. “Alright,” He agreed. “This morning when I accused you of killing Lila, you said you hadn’t killed anybody  _ recently _ .” 

“I did.”

“So you  _ have  _ killed people?”

The silence that hung in the air while Klaus considered his answer was almost unbearable, and Dave shifted uncomfortably on the spot, immediately regretting the question. Finally, Klaus let out a breath and leant against the cabinet. 

“I was turned in 1716,” He told him. “Human blood wasn’t just sitting around for the taking like it is now. So short of cramming a bunch of  _ leeches  _ down my throat, I didn’t exactly have many options back then.” 

“What about animal blood?”

“Anima- This isn’t fucking  _ Twilight _ , Dave!” Klaus exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a frustrated huff. “Do you  _ really  _ think I just went  _ straight _ to ripping people’s throats out without exhausting all my options first? I can’t live on animal blood because I’m not an  _ animal _ . And before you ask, I can’t starve myself either. Believe me, I  _ tried _ . Lasted almost two months, actually.”

Dave frowned. “What happened?”

“I blacked out. Woke up in a bar a day later, surrounded by corpses.” Klaus slammed shut the drawer he’d been searching to punctuate his sentence, before sighing and dragging his hand down his face. “I’m sorry,” He said quietly. “It’s just… I didn’t  _ ask  _ for this. For any of it. And I  _ hate  _ myself for what I did, so I really don’t need you berating me for it too.” 

Nodding, Dave hung his head, unable to think of anything to say in response. After a few moments Klaus took a step towards him and spoke again. 

“What about you?” He asked. “You don’t really strike me as the violent type. So why become a hunter?” 

“My parents were killed by vampires,” Dave told him. His past wasn’t something he usually talked about so readily to people, but for some reason he didn’t feel a need to hide it from Klaus. “The hunters that saved me took me in and raised me. It’s just… what I grew up with.” 

“So they kidnapped you.”

“I didn’t have anyone else,” He argued. “Without them I wouldn’t be here.”

Tired of the personal discussions, Dave gestured to the cabinets Klaus had been searching through. 

“Did they take anything?” He asked and Klaus nodded. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, they took everything.”

“ _ Everything?  _ ”

“Everything,” He repeated. “Bags, needles, cannulas, blood pressure monitors. All gone.” 

Dave stared at him in bewilderment. “Why would somebody take those?”

“Beats me.” Klaus shrugged, his lips twisting into a crooked grin. “Maybe they’re a  _ weirdo _ .” 

Before Dave could respond to him, a noise from what looked like a small closet on the other side of the room startled them. Klaus took a step to the side and positioned himself between Dave and the door, holding his arm out protectively as he cautiously made his way over to the closet. He flung the door open and Dave’s heart caught in his throat as several mops clattered to the floor, revealing a small, trembling woman hiding behind them. 

“Agnes!” Klaus cried, running over and putting his arm around her to steady her. “My love, how long have you been in there?” 

“I’m not sure.” Agnes clung on to Klaus’ arm and squinted into the light, letting him guide her across the room. “I hid in there when I heard all the commotion and I… I must have fallen asleep.” 

They led Agnes back out into the hall and found a chair for her to sit in. Dave leant himself against the opposite wall while Klaus crouched beside her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. 

“You have such cold hands, dear,” She said quietly. “You need more iron in your diet.” 

“I’m working on it,” Klaus assured her with a smile. “But what are you doing here? You never work nights.”

“Our computer system went down,” She explained. “We had to do all the paperwork by hand. I offered to stay late to help Herb and Dot with the filing. We’d just finished the last of it and I was taking everything to the storeroom when I heard a crash, and then screaming. At first I thought there’d been an accident but then the screams got louder, and closer, and I just… I panicked and locked myself in the closet. And then I heard someone else come through the door behind me.”

“Did you see them?” Dave pushed, ignoring the quiet hiss Klaus gave him. 

“No.” Agnes shook her head. “It was only one person though. I could see them moving around through the cracks in the door. It looked like they were putting things in a bag but… I closed my eyes after that. Eventually they left but I was too scared to move, and the next thing I remember is hearing your voices outside.” She looked back over at Klaus sadly. “The others are dead, aren’t they? It was  _ so  _ quiet. I knew everyone else must be dead.” 

“The police found four bodies.” Klaus nodded and squeezed her hand again.

“Four? There were six of us last night.” 

Dave and Klaus exchanged a glance, and Klaus cocked his eyebrow at her curiously. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Oh, yes. There was me, Herb, Dot, one of the cleaners, and two nurses.”

“Alright. You’ve been  _ so _ helpful, Agnes,” Klaus said, standing upright and holding his hand out for her. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The back entrance of the building was less heavily guarded, and they were able to get Agnes out without drawing too much attention to themselves. 

“I should be able to get into the online system and find out who was working last night,” Klaus told him as he unfolded his parasol. “You want me to let you know what I find, or are we just gonna wait until fate inevitably makes us cross paths again?”

Dave narrowed his eyes at him and he sniggered. 

“Or I could meet you at the police station in a couple of hours?”

“Why would I be at the police station?” 

“To pick up your friend.” Klaus waved cheerfully to the police car driving past them, and Dave was able to look over in time to see Elliot scowling at them from the backseat. 

“God dammit,” Dave muttered. 

He’d expected to hear some kind of amused laugh from Klaus, but when he turned back around, the vampire had already gone, leaving him alone on the edge of the pavement. Rolling his eyes, he began making his way back to the car, but when he reached into his pocket for his keys, he found a small slip of paper with a phone number scribbled on one side, and a note on the other. 

_ If fate doesn’t bring us together fast enough, you can always call ;) - K _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. Seasonal depression is a bitch.


End file.
